Old School Rap
They both stood in silence for a reasonable amount of time until Isabelle decided to break the ice.
"So, where're you from? Your accent sounds quite peculiar. Your skin is tan, but your accent reminds me more of something like Russian."
"..." Jack paused to think. He hadn't prepared an answer for that.
"Oh, sorry. How clumsy of me. That must've come the wrong way... You don't have to respond if you don't want to," said Isabelle flustered.
"All right then, I won't," said Jack, making Isabelle chuckle, thinking it was a joke. He tried laughing along too, not understanding the joke, and then, it was silence again.
'Shit, I must've hit something personal there. Stupid me, I even had to mention the color of his skin, for god's sake.' Isabelle thought, dying inwardly.
Meanwhile, Jack was admiring the view outside the window. It was rather different from what he was used to see. First, it was a small chunk of land surrounded by the crystal ocean. Then, as they went higher, the scenery switched to blue-fluffy grapes that got their skin peeled off. Jack felt like he wanted to taste them, just like a little kid would.
In the meantime, a guy from a seat behind (with both seats for himself) was blasting music out of his headphones. It was quite noisy. People from five seats forward and behind could make sense of the words. Some Old-School Rap. Isabelle looked behind to see who it was - out of mild frustration.
A disco club type of guy. Black at his skin and with puffy long hair that looked like he just got electrocuted. He seemed to have no intention of quieting it down, even starting to sing along like he was the coolest guy in town, so Isabelle decided to make a disapproving remark:
"Hello, sorry! Will you tone it down, please? I don't remember being invited to the party and neither does my friend here, right Jack?"
"What? Oh yeah, tone that down. That sounds pretty good though. What is it called?" Jack was more fascinated by music than he had thought.
"It's the damn kingdom of rap, pal. Old School type o' shit. Remember it well. The singer's name's Papa Cold, the mothafucking G," said the afro guy.
Jack did not understand half of what he had said but didn't want to interact further, so he just kept quiet.
"Hey, friend. Jack, I hear it's ya name. I'm called Dijon, 'DJ On' while on the floor. How about you come by me after we've landed? We are making one bomber of a party, man. Got weed and all that jizz, ya know?" said the man after pausing the song.
"DJ On? That's one hell of a name. And you think you can just grab a stranger and get him on your little pothead parade? Dream on," Isabelle replied.
"Common gal, you can come too, no worries. If anything, I'd be particularly happy if you did. We got one hell of a location, you know. Just 20 miles down Area 51, maybe we'll get to see some aliens or UFOs or any of all that stuff."
"Thank, but no thanks. I don't think Jack has any intention to come either, right Jack?" Isabelle said while pointing her eyes at Jack, who this entire time had stood silent.
"No, actually, I'm going. Thank you, Dijon."
"That's my man. I got a car meeting me at the airport. We can go from there. By the way, the party's today, hope you don't got no plans or if you do, be ready to cancel them," Dijon laughed. He was in a good mood.
"No, that's perfect, thanks for having me." Jack said while at the same time thinking: 'An astonishing surprise! This will accelerate my plans by at least a day.'
Dijon resumed his music and his half-assed singing, making Isabelle once again irritated. But this time she made sure that the DJ toned it down once and for all. Moments later, she started scribbling on some papers which got Jack curious.
"What're the papers for?"
"So, you finally decided to have a conversation huh? These? I prefer writing on paper, makes the ideas flow better. I'm writing a play. That's what I do for my job. Which reminds me, what about you? What do you do for work?" Said Isabelle, a bit stung at first but she quickly calmed down. Jack's conversation with Dijon made her feel a bit of a fool - like they had implied that she was just a pompous girl who had no sense of fun.
"Me? Well, I did all kinds of stuff during my life. I suppose piloting was my main thing though."
"Piloting? Now that's interesting. Mind giving me a ride sometime?" Isabelle said while not fully believing and not truly doubting it either.
"Maybe, sometime."
"Hey, about the party. I got some free time so I might tag along."
"Do as you wish."
"Hear that Djon or whatever your name was? I'm coming along," she said while turning back, speaking a touch louder so he could hear her through the headphones.
Dijon did not say anything back and just raised his thumb as a form of approval.
Moments later, Jack decided to finally fall asleep. One interesting feature about their species was that they could fall into slumber on command, in a light sleep kind of thing that cats have. They only needed about 2 hours of sleep per day or about 3 while in human form. One more thing, his species couldn't dream.
He needed rest to prepare for the next day. Tomorrow would be a very important day for him and a legendary one in human history. One without par even throughout the entire universe.